


Hold Me Fast

by orphan_account



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Flynn is so gone for this girl and she doesn't even know it, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 06:37:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14665383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Flynn… I can’t… I can’t.” Lucy felt like her heart was being split in two. That was the only explanation for the feeling in her chest, the feeling that something inside of her was being ripped apart. Her mother was dead. “I can't.”





	Hold Me Fast

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to flynn-it-up on tumblr for taking the time to read and correct and obsess with me for hours. Enjoy!

“Flynn… I can’t… I can’t.” Lucy felt like her heart was being split in two. That was the only explanation for the feeling in her chest, the feeling that something inside of her was being ripped apart. Her mother was dead. “I can't.”

She hardly felt Flynn’s arms come around her as she sobbed. Everything had gone dark and fuzzy around the edges of her vision, and she welcomed it.

His forehead touched hers, gently, so as not to press against the sore side of her face. Hot tears just kept coming, burning her eyes. They leaked out of her closed eyes and down her temples, splashing onto the floor, or on the hand Flynn had on her face.

* * *

He cradled her as he rocked back and forth while she continued to sob. A tiny part of her brain noted that she was practically hysterical- she hadn’t slept in over 24 hours, and there was a mission to complete- but the rest of her was focused on the pain, both physical and emotional. Despair. She’d never had such a full and complete understanding of a word as she did just then.

She buried her face into Garcia’s chest, and he sat back slightly, allowing her to do so. she was getting mascara and God knew what else all over his shirt, but she was beyond caring at that point. And he seemed to be as well. His arms simply readjusted themselves around her, and he stroked her hair gently, letting her cry herself out.

It could have been minutes or hours later, but eventually, her tears lessened. Her breath transitioned from ragged gasps to hiccupy and shallow gulps. She pulled herself out of the cocoon she’d made of Garcia’s body.

She swiped the remaining water from her eyes and met Garcia’s stare, green eyes full of compassion. “Are you…?” He let the question hang in the air. She wasn’t okay. He knew that.

“I’m going to kill that bitch.” Even raspy, her voice was hard as steel, cold as ice. Lucy had never had a desire to kill anyone- not even when Joey tripped her in ninth grade and made her skirt fly up in front of the entire school. But Emma. She was going to make Emma pay for what she’d done. Not just to her mother, but to her sister. To her friends. To her family.

“Okay.” Garcia’s voice didn’t waver. Didn’t change. He sounded… frighteningly calm about the whole situation. “If that’s what you need to do. I’ll help you find her. But first,” He sat back a bit, and groaned. “We should get you patched up.” He raised his hand, the one that had been tangled in her hair, to just gently touch the side of her face. His touch was feather-soft, but it felt like a thousand volts electricity on her skin. It was not unpleasant. “Emma got you pretty good.”

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows, and she reached up to touch her eyebrow, then her lip. Her fingers came away wet, and red. “Oh.” She knew Emma had hit her, but she’d been so caught up in her thoughts, she hadn’t even begun to assess the blows her body had been dealt. Her ribs were sore as hell, and both of her knees felt like she’d bashed them into rocks. Her side wasn’t sore, but she became aware that it felt wet, and cold. Gingerly, she twisted to look, and saw blood. “That’s not-“

Flynn groaned again, and her eyes flashed up to his, and then dropped down to his arm. His left hand was wrapped around his right bicep. It was dark, but she could still see the glint of blood on his fingers. “You’re hurt!” She gasped, scrambling to sit up straighter. How had she not noticed before? Her hands fluttered uselessly above his arm, and he shook his head, though his grimace didn’t disappear.

“It’s nothing, Lucy.” He ducked his head, and she tore her gaze away from his wound to meet his green eyes again. “It’s a graze. I’ll be fine.”

Lucy pressed her lips together. She knew he’d been through worse. But he was in pain right now, and she couldn’t help him. “Still.” Before her mind had fully caught up with her actions, she found herself ripping a long strip of fabric to her already tattered dress. “Here.”

Garcia’s lips parted, and his tongue darted out, swiping across his bottom lip, as it often did when he was perplexed, she noticed. Hesitantly, as though he thought she’d jerk it away from him at the last minute, he accepted the fabric, wrapping it around his bicep. A moment later, Lucy reached out to help. He jumped at the unexpected contact, but allowed her to finish the job, and she tied the two ends together tightly. “There.”

There were those eyes again, those kind eyes. After the day they’d had, she couldn’t believe they were filled with the same hope she’d been seeing in him for weeks. And yet. Her whole body tingled when he looked at her like that. “Thank you, Lucy.” His voice was quiet. He stood up, and reached for her hand. 

For one stupid moment, she hesitated. His fingers were drenched in blood. But she looked down at her own red-streaked hands. Her mother’s blood. Her own. And Flynn’s.

She grabbed his hand, and he helped her up, and waited patiently as she kicked her skirts out of the way. If he was surprised by the way she wrapped both of her arms around his good one, he didn’t show it. “Let’s go home.”


End file.
